


My Shiny, Shiny Love

by Schwoozie



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Diners, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, One Shot, Single Parents, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 07:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5617714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schwoozie/pseuds/Schwoozie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth thinks she's seen everything there is to see in this sleepy Georgia diner; everything, that is, until a man comes in with a sleeve tattoo and a baby in his arms. Who could fault Beth for melting like an abandoned slice à la mode?</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Shiny, Shiny Love

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Anon for reminding me about this story!
> 
> For now, this is a one shot. For now. I have too many open projects to promise anything, but we'll see where my brain goes. 
> 
> Title borrowed from "Diner" by Martin Sexton.
> 
> Please remember to review!

Despite its edgy name, Beth is used to a standard sort of clientele at the Moonshine Diner: four-person families dropping in for a quick bite, old men with nowhere else to be, young couples sharing sticky-syrup kisses. She's worked here for about two months now, and there have never been any major deviations from the pattern.

And then he walks in.

She's wiping down a table when a splash of color catches her eye, and she turns her head to see the most impressive set of arms she's ever seen. One of them is bare, gleaming and muscular, but the other is covered wrist to shoulder in a swirl of tattoos that make Beth's breath hitch. Part of it is in sympathy, imagining how painful it must have been to get such an elaborate design done; but most of it, she isn't ashamed to admit, is the sudden heat pooling in her belly, hunching her deeper over the table as her stomach cramps in desire.

It isn't all the arms, although those would have been enough to undo her—the summer Jimmy spent working his cousin's farm in Texas taught her exactly how much she appreciates a nice pair of arms, although Jimmy looks like a stalk of celery next to this man—no, it isn't all the arms at all. He has those arms, yes—long, tan, shimmering in the diner's fluorescent lighting—but even more importantly, cradled within them is possibly the cutest dang baby she's seen in her entire life.

He gets all the way to a booth before Beth realizes her mouth is hanging open, and she shuts it abruptly, watching him slide smoothly onto the red vinyl, clutching the baby easily to his chest. He swings his long hair out of his face and settles in, baby seated on his lap, little hands on the tabletop. He curls his tattooed arm around the baby protectively, and Beth feels another thump go though her torso.

It's only when he opens his mouth to start talking that Beth notices the woman sitting across from him.

Beth only takes in her cropped grey hair and sparkling blue eyes before looking down and resuming a furious scrubbing at the tabletop. She spends a moment feeling all kinds of foolish. Of course there's a woman. If there's a baby there must have been a woman at one point; it ain't too far a stretch to believe she'd still be there.

“Beth?” Beth's head jerks up and finds Karen looking at her, balancing a tray of pancakes and milkshakes and looking mildly concerned. “You ok, hon?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Beth says, straightening and blowing a lock of hair out of her face. “Just got distracted.”

“Ok.” Karen jerks her head towards the trio. “Table eight looks ready.”

“Oh, right, thanks Karen!” Beth says, chipper as can be. She ignores Karen's still-furrowed brow to spin around on her Mary-Janes, take a deep breath, and start forward.

“Hi-ya!” she says, coming to a stop by the table. “Can I—ehm, sorry, may—uh, no.” Beth flounders to a stop, flushing. “Need any help?” she asks weakly.

She focuses on the woman, but she can feel the man's eyes on her—not in any lewd way, just the way a normal person would look at a waitress as she babbles her way past coherency—and she prays he can't see the goosebumps breaking out on her skin.

The woman looks at Beth quizzically. She seems amused, if a bit confused, but thankfully takes pity. She turns to her companion. “You know what you want, Pookie?”

Beth doesn't even have a chance to feel dejected at the pet name before his voice is rumbling through her body, deep and rusty and layered as the ink on his arms. “Burger and Coke.”

“Nothing else?” the woman asks. “I'm buying.”

“No you ain't.” Beth is only looking at him out of the corner of her eye, gaze on her notebook, but she can tell his eyes are only for the woman. “I can pay for my own damn self.”

The woman shrugs. “Suit yourself.” She turns back to Beth. “I'll have the garden omelet deluxe, please. And an iced tea.”

“Alrighty!” Beth says, wincing a little at how terribly happy she sounds. “I'll get that all started for ya.” Flashing a final pained smile Beth turns and begins to walk away, face already falling as she curses herself.

“Wait!”

Beth freezes with one foot suspended in the air, then spins around so fast she whacks herself in the face with her ponytail.

She's only gotten a step or two away, which isn't far enough to miss the flecks of black in his dark blue eyes as they settle on her, arresting her body like she's a deer entranced by a hunter's gaze. For a moment Beth forgets how to breathe.

Then the man blinks and looks down, shifting the baby in his lap and muttering, “Uh, you got any of those frozen bagels? Squirt likes to chew on them.”

“Uh, yeah,” Beth says, cursing inwardly at how breathy her voice is. “Yeah, I'll get that right away.” She starts to turn, then stops. “You want a high chair or anything?”

“Nah, I got him.” The man's gaze flicks up to hers. It's no less intense than it was before, but something about it is softer, searching. Beth feels her breath catch again as he peers at her through his bangs. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Beth says, far softer than she intends. He doesn't look away.

She flashes a quick smile and turns around. This time he doesn't call her back.

* * *

After bringing them a bagel fresh from the freezer, Beth manages not to look at table eight for a good ten minutes. It isn't all that hard; there's a rush of people asking for checks and she barely has a chance to breathe, let alone shoot furtive looks as a man and his baby. By the time their ticket comes up, she's almost forgotten all about it.

The nerves come rushing back as she stands behind the closed kitchen door. She's a touch worried the dishes are going to slide right off her sweaty palms, and she closes her eyes, trying to collect herself. She wonders for a moment if she's got a fever or something—maybe she should hand the plates over to Karen and beg off sick for the rest of the day, she shouldn't be around food whatever condition she's in...

But then she thinks of her sister, and what Maggie would do in this situation. She wouldn't go so far as to flirt with the man—even Maggie knows taken men are off limits—but she wouldn't be a scaredy-cat about it either.

 _You're a Greene, goshdarnit_ , Beth hears Maggie say in her head. _You're_ Beth _freaking Greene, and he's a barely-evolved neanderthal better known as a man. You are the pinnacle of your species and you are going to march right out there and show him how much he doesn't deserve you pining over him_.

She knows Maggie's right, and she knows what she has to do: march right up to them, prim and business-like, and give them the best darn service they could ask for. Cause she's a waitress; that's her job; that's what she does. It's Beth's only option.

Beth takes a deep breath—drawing it in, letting it out. She straightens her spine, plasters on a smile, and pushes through the doors.

She's aware from the moment she spots the table that something doesn't look right. She slows to a stop, frowning. The man is there, the baby is there, but the woman...

The woman is gone.

 _Must be in the bathroom_ , Beth thinks, taking a moment to let her gaze sweep up and down the man. His tattooed arm is still tight around the baby, his other forearm resting on the table beside him. His head is ducked and his lips are moving, like he's talking to the baby. As Beth watches, he leans down further, pressing a kiss to the downy head.

Beth doesn't have to fake her smile this time.

“Got your burger and garden omelet deluxe here,” she says, setting the plates by the drinks Karen brought by earlier. She doesn't feel quite as breathless when she looks the man in the eyes this time, although her heart still beats a little faster. “Can I getcha anything else?”

“Yeah, you mind packing up the omelet? Carol had to go get her kid.”

“Sure thing.” Beth pauses, smile faltering. “This her second marriage, then?”

The man frowns, brows dropping low. “Huh? What do you...” His eyes shoot wide, then, comically wide, and his free hand grips the table white knuckled. “You think we're _married_? Christ, no. No no no no no.”

“So... y'all are just friends, then?” Beth cringes at herself. It seems to be a theme today. “Wait, you know, I'm really sorry I said that, it isn't any of my business—“

“We are,” he interrupts. Beth watches, fascinated, as a blush spreads across his dark cheeks. He blinks at her, then clears his throat. “Just friends, I mean.”

“Oh. Ok.”

“Yeah.” He looks at her again, almost shyly. He opens his mouth to speak—

—and jumps a little at a ringing suddenly coming from his pocket. He glances at her, then goes to retrieve the phone, shifting around until the baby squeals with irritation. He shushes the child, then looks at the screen. His brow furrows, and a sharp, angry exhale gusts from his nose.

“The fuck you done now,” he mutters. He glances at the baby, then up at Beth, biting his lip. “Uhh, you think you can get that highchair after all?”

Beth frowns, tilting her head. “Why?”

“I gotta call my brother back; don't think the kid should be around for it.”

“Oh,” Beth says; then, “Oh! No worries, I can watch him.”

The man frowns. “Ya sure? You look busy—“

“All my tables are cleared, soon as you're done I'm off the clock.” She smiles. “Besides, been a while since I held a baby that cute.”

The man flushes again, looking down at the baby before holding him out jerkily. Beth's smile widens as she takes the child, hefting him onto her shoulder in a practiced move.

“Oh my goodness, aren't you a big boy?” she says, rocking a little and patting his back. The man is still sitting there, watching them. He looks a little dazed. Beth jerks her head towards the door. “Go on, then, I got him.”

The man visibly shakes himself, then stands quickly. Beth has to gulp a little as she realizes how much _larger_ he is than her; but she finds that now she can deal with it. She's holding a baby— _his_ baby. There are more important things than this weird insta-crush.

Once he's at his full height he freezes, then shifts from foot to foot, still looking unsure. He brings a hand up to his mouth and bites at the thumbnail. “Uh, I dunno how long this'll take...”

Beth shrugs as nonchalantly as she can, the baby pressed to her chest making her even more aware of her pounding heart. “I don't have anywhere to be.”

“Ok.” He nods, and begins to turn when he pauses, turning back. “Name's Jack, by the way.”

 _Doesn't really fit him,_ Beth thinks; but still, she smiles. “I'm Beth. Nice to meet you, Jack.”

His brows furrow like they did when she asked about a second marriage. “No, I'm...” And then he does the darnedest thing; he chuckles, lips sliding into a grin and eyes sparkling and Beth's stomach just about drops through the floorboards. “Jack's the kid.” And then he ducks his chin and his smile softens and before Beth can ask what it means he's palmed his phone and walked out the Moonshine's door.

Beth stands blinking after him a few moments before sliding into Carol's vacated seat, balancing Jack facing her on her lap.

“What are you doing with a daddy that handsome?” she murmurs, holding him by the ribs while he flaps his arms, twisting in her hold like he's trying to find his father. Beth decides to follow his example. She stretches up to look out the window; sees the man on the phone pacing and gesticulating wildly, face thunderous. Something in his expression sends a shiver through Beth's body; she looks down to adjust Jack in her lap and when she looks up again the man's looking at her. He still looks angry, body tight light a coiled spring—but his gaze has softened, mouth relaxed. Beth smiles, gives a little wave, and his mouth even quirks.

Trying to control her pleased blush, Beth turns back to Jack, cooing at him under her breath while he babbles.

“You talk a lot more than your daddy does, don't you?” she says, smiling as he lets out a squeal. “Yeah, you know how cute you are. Bet your daddy does too, coming in here like that—got arms for days, huh? Never knew tattoos and a baby would do me like that. Guess I'm just one big stereotype.” She bounces him a few times, smiling at his giggles. “If I was ten years older, maybe... but nah. He'd never notice me, not like that. Least _you_ like me,” she says, tickling Jack under the chin. “Damn, though,” she sighs. “What I wouldn't give to push him against the side of a car and kiss the crap outta—“

“Hey.”

Beth's head whips up to see the man standing there, fiddling with his phone. She feels the blush go all the way down to her chest, wondering exactly how much he heard.

“Um, hey,” she says, over-bright. “Everything ok with your brother?”

The man snorts, dropping into his side of the booth. “Is it ever?”

Beth grins, pulling Jack closer to her chest. “My sister's like that. Always getting in trouble. I always did the worse stuff, but she's the one who got caught.”

The man raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms on the table in front of him. Beth struggles to keep her eyes on his. “Yeah?” he asked. “What'd you do?”

Beth giggles. “Well,” she says. “I stole my teacher's toupee in the second grade cause he yelled at my best friend. And I snuck out way more than Maggie did, and all the stuff in the barn...”

Beth trails off, cheeks flushing.

The man leans forward, a smirk pulling at his mouth. “What stuff in the barn?”

“Ya know, just...” Beth bites her lip, says sheepishly, “Stuff?”

“Boy stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“Like what?”

Even he looks a bit surprised that he said that; he shrinks back a little, looking contrite. He opens his mouth, probably to apologize...

“Lost my virginity there,” Beth says. He freezes, eyes widening. Beth feels like she's gonna faint, all the blood rushing to her head, but still she doesn't stop. “It was really awkward. He was done in like two seconds, and we forgot a blanket so I got hay _everywhere_.” Beth scrunches her face. “Almost wish Daddy _had_ caught us, at least that would have made it more memorable.”

The man is silent, blinking; then he snorts, scratches the side of his face. “Yeah, well, better than the time I made this one.” He jerks his chin at the kid.

Beth tilts her head. “What happened?”

“Was drunk as shit. Don't even remember it. Didn't even know we'd done anything till she showed up ten months later with a kid and a paternity test.”

Beth's mouth twists in sympathy. “She didn't stick around?”

“Nah,” he says. He reaches out across the table with his tattooed arm, strokes Jack's downy head. “Just ain't made to be a mom.” He snorts, settling back in his seat. “Ain't like I should be a dad, either.”

“You're a great dad,” Beth blurts. She holds his eyes a beat too long, then looks down, watches as Jack plays with her name tag. “I mean, I'm sure you are.”

The man snorts again. “You got too much faith, girl.”

She looks up at him, peeking through her eyelashes. “Last I checked, that wasn't a bad thing.” She's determined not to be the first to look away this time, so she keeps her eyes on him—but he keeps his eyes on her too.

And soon they're staring at each other across the cheap, shiny tabletop. Heat builds through Beth's body as he regards her. One eye is hidden by his hair, but the other is sharp, blue and piercing, and Beth suddenly feels like ten thousand hot irons have been pressed to her skin. She can smell the sizzling flesh, can see the smoke, and it must be the confusion of that moment that leads to what she says next.

“Wanna come over for dinner sometime?”

The man doesn't respond for a moment; then, he frowns, open eyes suddenly turning a touch hostile.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Beth says. She giggles nervously. “And Jack too, of course. It's just...” She swallows, tries to find any reason why she'd say such a fool thing that doesn't begin and end with his ridiculous arms. “I'm new to the area,” she says. “Just finished college, you know. First apartment, first job. And my parents are only an hour away but I don't really have any friends here yet so I was just thinking–“

“Girl.” Her mouth snaps shut. “You don't even know me.”

He's looking at her suspiciously now, like she's got some kind of ulterior motive— _which you do, Bethany Ann, don't you deny that—_ his eyes flicking from her to his baby like he suddenly isn't so sure about her holding him. And that cows Beth more than anything.

“Sorry,” she says. “I... sorry.” She stands and walks up to him to hand Jack over. Their hands brush when he takes the baby but she doesn't let herself dwell on it—how warm he is, how rough and strong his hands look even as they cradle the child so gentle—and backs away. She forces a smile, avoiding his gaze by looking just past his left shoulder. “It was great to meet you. I hope you come back soon, they got a great deal on apple pie on Wednesdays—“

“Beth.”

She freezes, both in her tracks and her speech, leaving her mouth hanging awkwardly open until she remembers to close it. “Yeah?” she squeaks.

She can't help meeting his eyes now—his blue, blue eyes—and something in her whispers that he looks just as nervous as she feels.

“Don't got nothing doing this week,” he says; mumbles, more like, turning to face the child in his arms. “Don't wanna put you out or nothing–“

“You wouldn't,” Beth says, too quickly. He glances up at her, making her heart thump. She forces a smile. “Ain't no fun cooking for one person all the time.”

“Yeah,” he says. He peeks at her, worrying his lip. “Jack's got a doctor's appointment Friday, but after–“

“Friday is perfect,” Beth says. “Five?”

“Yeah.” The man pauses, then roots into his pocket, pulls out a pen and snags a napkin from the tabletop, scribbles something on it. “Here,” he says, voice impossibly low, holding the napkin out to her.

She takes it gingerly. Looks at it. A phone number. He gave her his phone number.

She looks up and jumps when she sees he's stood, Jack curled easily in his tattooed arm.

“See you then?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Beth breathes. “Yeah, ok.”

He nods, and turns to stride towards the door, vanishing in moments.

Beth stands in the middle of the diner, napkin clutched in her fist, head floating somewhere in the stratosphere.

His phone number. A man gave Beth Greene his phone number.

And, she realizes, she didn't even remember to ask his name.

“Beth has a date,” Beth whispers to herself. “Beth has a date with Jack's dad.”

She holds the napkin to her chest; then to her mouth; then to her whole face as she bursts into laughter.

She never would have expected it, but this diner is full of the most amazing of surprises.

 


End file.
